The Hidden Diary of Karen Brewer
by The Lady Elizabeth
Summary: Karen likes to tell things as they are. Set 3 years after Where Your Book Begins.
1. Welcome to Karen Brewer

**Part One: Welcome to Karen Brewer**

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January 1

I don't expect much from anyone.

It's become my personal belief that if you trust in someone _too_ much, if you put _too_ much hope in a living, breathing human being, they will, without fail, let you down. It always happens. Rich, famous, poor, obsolete. Doesn't matter who you are or who you do, someone is going to let you down (and probably in a most spectacular way) before you expect it and the sooner you accustom yourself to that fact, the easier the disappointment is going to be.

_later_

Apparently, Dad and Mom think it's a good idea if I write in here as much as I can. Apparently, they think I've got the whole tortured spirit, tortured artist thing happening with me and that the best outlet I have now (since I refuse to talk to the high-priced, know-nothing, Yuppie therapist they hired) is this leather bound book with its gold leafed pages. I don't suppose they're too far off the mark. I mean, I do like to talk, so maybe writing is just as good as talking ought to be. Their thinking still, not mine. Now, that's true, only they keep forgetting that I just don't like talking about **that**.

Maybe a journal's the best place to do it. Then nobody will be psychoanalyzing every single word I write. That's one thing that I seriously hate. I hate having every word I say (and I never say much) chirped back at me like I'm some kind of a freak to have said it. Like, if I said, "I wish I were an only child for once," the stupid therapist would reply "Why do you want to be an only child? Did you have a fight with one of your brothers or sisters? Do you want to talk about it?" Not likely. Besides, whenever I say that it's usually just because I want to have some peace and quiet in the house instead of listening to all the family bustling around, which I do normally find rather pleasant. See, these therapists dig too deep and **always** miss their mark. I hate that. I'm fourteen and I could do a better job than they could, I bet.

I'd better go now. We're off to visit Great-Aunt Bethany. She's very old, very senile, and very loaded. Dad and Elizabeth want us to have pleasant memories of her since it's real obvious that she won't be around for much longer. Us kids are trying to play favorites to get into her will. Also, we haven't gotten our Christmas presents from her and she gives the most outlandishly expensive gifts. Last year, she gave me a diamond tennis bracelet. Dad put it into a vault at the bank for safe keeping, but I know he was annoyed that a thirteen year old received such an expensive and inappropriate gift. In his opinion.

* * *

_January 2_

All right. I suppose that I can be a little more disciplined and serious about this whole thing. After all, nobody knows for sure (except, obviously, for me) whether or not I am writing in this journal (diary?). And, nobody is reading, to be sure. So… what's the point in being a smart-ass? So that I can look back and see what a little jerk I was? I'd rather not. After all, I'd rather have a good impression of myself, if I can help it.

I'll start by doing the standard diary opening: I'll introduce myself.

First of all, my name is Karen Brewer. I wish it were Karen Brewer-Thomas, but my mother wouldn't let me take my beloved stepmother's name. There are kids in the house who are Brewer-Thomas kids and I think that they are the luckiest kids in the world, to have a dad as great as mine and a mother as great as Elizabeth is.

Back to me. I'm 14 years old and a Freshman at Stoneybrook High School. Go SHS! *sigh* I have dirty blonde hair that I've let grow for the past three years (to be completely honest, I do it to hide my face better) and by now it reaches just above my butt. I also have blue eyes, fair skin that burns easily, some freckles, and am on the short and skinny side of the girls my age. Reading that back, I guess you could say that I'm pretty cute, but that the last way I feel about myself.

I am a member of a huge blended family. Originally (until I was about 5 or 6), it was just me, my mom, my dad, and my little brother, Andrew, who is now 12. Then, Mom and Dad got a divorce, Mom married a creep and Dad married Elizabeth. Now Elizabeth already had a group of kids of her own. Charlie (who's 26), Sam (who's 24), Kristy (who's 21), and David Michael (who's 15, but only a few months older than I am). Long story short, we started to adopt and "collect" kids, I guess you could call it. First, my new "parents" brought home Emily Michelle (she's 10), a Vietnamese baby, to live with us and brought home Nannie, Elizabeth's mother, to come and take care of us younger kids. After that, Elizabeth gave birth to my half sister, Grace (6). Just when everyone thought the house was jam packed with too many kids, Dad and Elizabeth surprised us with Benny (he's 14 like me), our foster kid who we're going to adopt soon. Benny is especially thrilled that he won't be bounced around anymore and that he landed in a home with a family that he now loves. Awwww….

Our next two newest family members came to us through tragic means. Jessi (she's 19 and a freshmen at Stamford Community College) and Becca (she's 16 and a sophomore at good ole SHS) lost both of their parents and their little brother in a horrendous car accident about three years ago. No, maybe it's closer to four. It'd have to check with Dad or Elizabeth. Anyways, Becca was in a coma for months and poor Jessi the Ballerina had both her legs broken. My parents decided that since they had the room and the money that they would take the girls in and adopt them instead of having them go into the system.

So, that's me and my family. Complicated, huh? Elizabeth says we're probably the biggest, most complicated family in all of Stoneybrook. I laugh whenever she says that because as silly as it sounds, she's probably right.

P.S. Great-Aunt Bethany came through for me again this year. She bought me genuine pearl earrings and a long string of pearls that I have to wrap around my neck a few times before it looks tasteful. Elizabeth suspects it's a string of pearls from the 1920s. How cool is that?

She also held my hand the entire time we were there. I could remember when her mind wasn't so foggy and when I did, tears began to spill down my cheeks. I know I only think of her as a money pot so that I don't remember that she is slowly dying and losing herself in her own head. I wanted to hold her all night and tell her that I would protect her from whatever was to come; that I would be the one to save her. But, Dad said time to leave and I knew that I would have to leave her to the care of her nurses and maids and butlers. God, I'm tearing up just writing about this.

* * *

_January 4_

To be honest… not much has been going on. Mom finally agreed to cancel any further appointments with the therapist since when they do manage to get me there, I sit with my mouth slammed shut.

You can't just go asking someone you haven't even met about the worst experience of their life and expect that person to start chatting away about it. God, it's some topic Elizabeth and her friends would talk about over coffee, so why should I be expected to just spout off about it. It's the **WORST** thing that has ever happened to me. God. I don't know how some people can live with themselves.

I know that I sure as hell can't, but maybe it's just because I'm a freak. Supposedly, I ought to be getting better and "moving on," but I'm definitely still sick and I'm stuck in one place. I hate feeling like this. It's the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing before I fall asleep. I'm still having nightmare and flashbacks, but nobody seems to know how to fix those.

I feel like I'm becoming someone else. Some weak, pathetic little blob who's scared of her own damn shadow. I'm starting to feel like I'm losing myself to this weak mirror-image of myself and that nobody is going to notice the difference when I'm gone.

Not one person is going to care.

**NOT ONE!!**

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_January 6_

This is my favorite song right now. I'm kind of a hopeless (very hopeless) romantic and when I heard it in the movie _Juno_, I just thought that it was fantastic. Barry Louis Polisar is amazing.

If I was a flower growing wild and free  
All I'd want is you to be my sweet honey bee.  
And if I was a tree growing tall and green  
All I'd want is you to shade me and be my leaves

If I was a flower growing wild and free  
All I'd want is you to be my sweet honey bee.  
And if I was a tree growing tall and green  
All I'd want is you to shade me and be my leaves

All I want is you, will you be my bride  
Take me by the hand and stand by my side  
All I want is you, will you stay with me?  
Hold me in your arms and sway me like the sea.

If you were a river in the mountains tall,  
The rumble of your water would be my call.  
If you were the winter, I know I'd be the snow  
Just as long as you were with me, when the cold winds blow.

All I want is you, will you be my bride  
Take me by the hand and stand by my side  
All I want is you, will you stay with me?  
Hold me in your arms and sway me like the sea.

If you were a wink, I'd be a nod  
If you were a seed, well I'd be a pod.  
If you were the floor, I'd wanna be the rug  
And if you were a kiss, I know I'd be a hug

All I want is you, will you be my bride  
Take me by the hand and stand by my side  
All I want is you, will you stay with me?  
Hold me in your arms and sway me like the sea.

If you were the wood, I'd be the fire.  
If you were the love, I'd be the desire.  
If you were a castle, I'd be your moat,  
And if you were an ocean, I'd learn to float.

All I want is you, will you be my bride  
Take me by the hand and stand by my side  
All I want is you, will you stay with me?  
Hold me in your arms and sway me like the sea.

Isn't that just a terribly romantic song? I don't know, maybe it's kind of corny and cheesy and something my parents might like, but I do like it. It makes me think that maybe I won't be alone forever, you know? That maybe I will find someone and someone that I love so much that I will want to be all those kinds of things for that person just because I love them so much. Maybe that's why this song gives me tingles inside while I listen to it. It gives me a little bit of hope and maybe every girl ought to hear it whenever she feels ugly or fat. Just to cheer her up again.

I don't know what I'm saying. Mom's ex-husband # 2 always used to tell me that I talked too much. That I would just chatter on and on without really having a point or knowing what I was saying. I hope I'm making some more sense now that I'm older. I certainly didn't make sense then; when I needed to.

* * *

_January 7_

Mary Anne Spier, Kristy's best friend, is over baby-sitting right now. Poor Andrew considers this a special affront because he's 12, but since he doesn't want anything to do with Emily Michelle or Grace, Elizabeth had to hire Mary Anne so that the girls were watched. I'm technically "not available" unless I want to be. It was the therapist's suggestion and one that I like. It lets me decide to do my homework or whatever I feel like doing instead of feeling pressured into baby-sitting all the time. We haven't gone back to school yet (neither has Mary Anne), so I don't have any homework to work on. All of my over-the-break homework was finished days ago. As you might've guessed, I have no life. All the other kids in the house have put off their homework until the last minute, even little Grace!

The **Social Worker** is coming tomorrow with the finalized adoption papers. Dad says that we all need to behave and not act like hooligans. Apparently, we're heathens. Anyways, all Dad and Elizabeth need to do to make things final is to sign and initial some papers and then… BENNY IS OURS! Duh duh duh…

I'm kind of getting bored here at home. Don't let anyone, diary, but I'm kind of hoping school will hurry up and get here. I mean, it's only a couple days away, but I'm still bored out of my mind.

* * *

_January 8_

The **Social Worker** is downstairs right now. Dad decided to ban all of us kids to our bedrooms in order to keep the house nice and quiet. It was a good idea in theory, but everyone is sitting in their doorway, silent, waiting to see if they can hear anything. My door is among the closest to the stairs, so I can make out a lot of what they're saying.

"So, Benny," Emmy, the **Social Worker**, said. "How do you like living with the Brewer-Thomases? You've been here for a few years now, so you must've made some connections in the family."

"I love it," Benny said, probably with complete honesty. He and David Michael are inseparable. "Everyone is so nice and caring. I haven't lived in a home like this before in my life."

"Not even with the Fitzgeralds? You had a lot of good things to say about them, too."

Benny didn't say anything and I could just picture Dad circling an arm around his shoulder for support.

"Go on, son," Dad said. "There's no reason to feel shy."

"Please," Emmy said so quietly that I almost didn't hear her. "I'd like to have as little interference from the foster parents as possible. I don't mind you two sitting in here, but try not to coach him."

"I wasn't," Dad said, sounding really annoyed.

"Benny? Could you answer my question, please?" Emmy asked quickly, clearly trying to avoid any conflict.

"Well…" Benny said slowly. "I did like the Fitzgeralds, but they were an old couple with no more kids. Watson and Elizabeth have tons of kids. Two of them are even my age. It's cool to have a brother and sister my age."

"I'll bet."

Then they started talking about boring stuff like how Benny was doing in school and what he liked to do for fun around the house, etc. So, I got up and shut myself back up into my bedroom. I already knew all of this stuff and I knew Emmy did, too. According to Benny, she was the first social worker to actually be on top of things. I wish she had been my social worker. Mine hadn't cared about me or my case at all and would've left me dangling in the system had my father not stepped in and rescued me.

Becca's been looking into colleges, according to Jessi. She's got a lot of different ones on her mind. She's been thinking about going to Stamford University so that she can live at home and commute (she'd get her own car), University of Connecticut, Yale, SUNY Stoneybrook (which is in New York State and right near NYC), and a bunch of others. I'd love to see her go to Yale. She deserves to go to an Ivy League.

School starts tomorrow. Finally, right? David Michael's been in a funk about it, but so what? He might just be upset about the **Social Worker** being here today.

I'll never understand boys.

* * *

_January 9_

How **stupid** am I? I cannot believe I waited for school to start again. It's the same old **bullshit**. God damn it! Now I'm crying and smudging my pencil!

* * *

_January 12_

The papers came in. Benny is officially adopted into our family. I could dance, I'm so happy! I know he's happy, too, because all he's been doing since he heard the news is hugging my parents and running around the snowy backyard with David Michael and Shannon, our dog, whooping and hollering. I love my brothers. They're so funny sometimes. OK, they're actually funny most of the time.

I owe you an explanation, diary, for what I said in my last entry. I promised myself not to leave cryptic messages unless I was going to explain what I meant by them later on. So, here's the deal:

I had another flashback while I was at school yesterday and since neither of my brothers are in any of my classes (I'm in all of the advanced courses), they weren't there to tell people to back off or to shut up like they do when they are there. So, when I came around, Mrs. Patterson was holding my hand and stroking my face and talking to me while half the class was white with horror and the other half was trying to cover up their giggles. I couldn't stand it. Them. So, I got up and grabbed my things (I've decided to carry my diary around everywhere I go in case I make some interesting observation) and ran down to the girls' bathroom and locked myself into a stall. That's when I wrote my entry.

I hate having flashbacks, but nobody will tell me the cure! It's like people, everyone, wants me to stay sick. Like what **HE** did to me is something that everyone else wants to perpetuate by making me have my flashbacks.

_At first, it seemed to me to be innocent enough. He would ask me to change my clothes, with him in the room (while my mother was gone), and to put on different party dressed with pantyhose I owned. Sometimes I needed help with the button or lace or hose, so Seth would help me. Sometimes, his hand or fingers would slip and touch me in a place I knew he wasn't supposed to touch, but he never looked ashamed or apologetic about it, so I never bothered to say anything in protest. I always assumed that it was a complete accident. Adults could be clumsy, too. I'd seen Daddy be clumsy before._

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_January 13_

Ever since we said our goodbyes  
The onion rings, the phone makes me cry  
Something isn't right  
Like the Deep Blue without the Great White

In the morning open your eyes  
The waterfalls, the fire flies  
You're an abacus  
And my heart was counting on us

Your heart's got a heavy load  
There's still a long way to go  
Keep your eyes on the road

Crescent moon sings me to sleep  
The birches bark, the willows weep  
But I lie awake  
I'm adrift without a snowflake

Your heart's got a heavy load  
There's still a long way to go  
Keep your eyes on the road

Your heart's got a heavy load  
There's still a long way to go  
Keep your eyes on the road


	2. Escalation

**Part Two: Escalation**

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January 14

Oh, my God, are my legs ever exhausted. I wish I could just twist them off and stick them onto one of those battery chargers so that I won't have to deal with the inevitable pain in the morning. Oh, and the pain everywhere else in my body. I feel like I just got completely worked over by some mob flunky. What happened, you ask? Kristy took me sledding.

But more about that later.

Today, I met a new girl and I think that she might just end up sticking. I don't know why, most people slide off me like Teflon (I've grown very good at being a sparkling clear pan to greasy globs of gunk), but this girl stuck. The funny thing is, I'm not certain whether I ought to get something to scrub her off with or to just let her stick and see what happens. Either way, it'll be an experiment in sociology and cooking-ology.

Lauren. Her name is Lauren and she is so much taller than I am. I think, overall, she'd be prettier than me, too, if she didn't pick and poke at the pimples on her face. I mean, it's not like she covered with them like Hannah is now or anything like that, but still. She should know better. I got off lucky and have good skin that only gets the occasional pimple, but I never pick or poke or squeeze it. All that happens is that it turns into this nasty, red, sore mess that gets infected and turns into a big, gross whitehead.

Anyhow, I met Lauren because she was following me in the lunch line. Once I had finished paying for my cottage cheese, two yogurts, and fresh fruit, Lauren paid for her greasy lunch and followed close behind me once more. I sat down and she sat beside me. I started to turn on her, but she smiled quickly and started talking before I could say anything.

"Hi, I hope you don't mind that I'm sitting with you. I noticed that you tend to sit alone or with those two boys and I was wondering if I could sit with you," she said expectantly.

I shrugged. "I guess so. I mean, it's not really a big deal one way or another whether we have an extra person sitting with us at lunch. David Michael and Benny are only going to pretend to talk about cars like they actually understand how they work," I predicted, knowing my brothers well enough to have a safe prediction.

I was, of course, wrong. They stared at her like she was Death incarnate, and glanced at me. When poor Lauren got up to get some more bottled spring water, I demanded to know what the heck was wrong with them.

"First new friend I have in ages and you two losers are trying to humiliate me, aren't you," I accused them sharply.

"No, we're not!" David Michael snapped in return, looking defense. "Anyways, she's just a girl."

When Lauren came back I grabbed her arm almost dragged her to another table. "They're being jerks today, I warned them to stop, but they wouldn't. Let's just eat over here."

Later that day, I was feeling lonely, hot (Dad always cranks up the heat and Elizabeth and us kids turn it down and wrap up in a sweater.

So, about that sledding. It hurt like crazy; I don't remember hurting this much when I was a kid. I went down this monster hill because my stepsister was up top taunting and laughing at me. Not a good reason, but a reason nonetheless. Don't get me wrong, I love to play outdoors, but now sledding has been added to "No Can Do" list. I hit a snowboarding snow ramp on the way down, flew up into the air, and had the wind knocked out of me when I landed. I made Kristy drag me back to the car on my sled because I was so dazed I didn't think I could put one foot in front of the other.

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January 15

Dear Diary,

Dad is letting me redecorate my bedroom! The last time I was allowed to redecorate my bedroom was when I was 11, right after the Incident. Daddy thought it would nice for me if I had a whole new set of surroundings to help me to forget and move past the Incident, as he and Elizabeth refer to it when everyone else is listening. When they're alone or when they think nobody is listening, they call it for what it really is.

I don't. I'm still scared if I do refer to it for what it is, it's going to come back. **HE** is going to come back and I am going to get hurt all over again.

_later…_

Back to my bedroom.

Right now it's painted a light lavender/pink color on the walls with a definitely lavender carpet that stretches from one wall to the other. The furniture is all white colored and very feminine. I've taken down as much of the poster and lamps and things like that as I can and have snuck them up into the attic in a box marked 'Karen's Room: Age 11.' They'll be a whole new set of boxes up there with that same label, so I should probably go and mark that box with 'Posters, Lamps, Odds'n'Ends.'

Kristy asked me what theme I'm leaning towards and I told her that I would love to have a red and black bedroom. Kristy laughed and said there was no way that Daddy and Elizabeth would let me redecorate my bedroom like that. So, I've thought about it and I've decided that I'm going to go with a green and brown themed bedroom. I have hardwood underneath my carpet, so that would go well with the earthy theme I want, granted I match the shade of brown to the hardwood properly.

Enough about my room. Even I'm getting bored of writing about it and it's my room!

So, I am on this absolutely huge historical fictional kick right now. It's scary and weird. It's like all I ever want to do is read my books and find out as much about the real people as I can while getting the pure satisfaction that comes from reading a novel. My current favorite time period is the Tudor era. Right now, I'm really obsessed with the queens of King Henry VIII, especially Anne Boleyn.

Right now I'm working on this hugely thick book that is about the six wives of Henry VIII. I'm only about halfway through the massive section on Katherine of Aragon, but that's all right. I like her a lot, too. Did you know that she was originally married to Henry's older brother, Arthur? However, Arthur died and there was a lot of confusion and intrigue (personally, diary, instead writing it all out in here like some kind of an essay, I'll refer myself to the book) and finally she was married to Henry, but it took years before baby Mary was born.

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January 17

I am so… **so**… **so** infuriated right now! I just found out that my little brother is being picked on at school by the local group of bullies! Can you believe that? Who would want to pick on my sweet little brother? He's the nicest kid who'd give a friend the shirt off his back if they needed it, that's how selfless and generous he is. My step- and fosterbrother are little jerks most of the time. I mean, sure, they do the occasional sweet thing and are fiercely protective of me, but Andrew has always been my sweet, loving little brother.

I've always hated bullies, but especially more now that they're picking on my little brother. I've had some incidents with bullies that, luckily, turned out all right (mostly because we were little kids in the 1st or 2nd grade, not 8th or 9th graders). Still, I'm really worried about Andrew.

"Andrew, you have got to tell Dad and Elizabeth about these bullies," I told him as soon as I knew. We were halfway home on our walk from school to our house. Andrew stopped walking and stared at me blankly for a moment.

"How do you know about the bullies?" he asked. His hair was whipping around his face and into his eyes, but he didn't swipe it away. "Karen, how did you find out?"

"Well, I mean, I was watching you and-"

"You were spying on me!"

"No!"

"God, Karen! I can't believe you! No, wait, I can believe you'd do that." I was crushed. Andrew continued. "Anyways, never mind about those guys. They're not important."

"But, Andrew-"

"**Karen, I mean it!** And, don't tell Dad or Elizabeth or call Mom or tell anyone. OK?"

"All right," I agreed reluctantly, scuffing my boot in the snow.

My poor little brother. I feel so bad for him, especially since I don't know what to do for him.

I'm having that feeling again. You know. The feeling where I feel like I fading back inside myself. I've had it a few times since I last wrote about it, but I just didn't bother to write about it because it was the same old, blah thing. Now, though, it's worse. Sometimes, I swear it's as if nobody even notices me. Like I'm screaming and pounding the walls and stomping on the floor and all anyone does is look up and ask "Can you hear that?"

I know my family loves me, which why I feel so damn guilty about feeling so washed out. I should be over the hurt in my past and I should be a happy teenager. I have everything. Loving parents, plenty of money, and a huge family that loves me, too. Still, it just doesn't matter. **HE** must have smothered something critical out of me and now I just feel like a shadow version of myself.

**I hate what HE did to me!**

_

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January 19

Andrew's arm is broken. We (me, Andrew, Kristy, her fiancée Pete, and David Michael) just got back from the hospital to have his arm set and put into a cast. Poor Andrew was trying to be all brave and everything, but when they adjusted his arm, he just started screaming and crying and begging for them to stop. He let Kristy hold him after the worst of it was done and David Michael didn't even say a thing about him being a baby for crying and stuff, which is something David Michael would usually do to Andrew since they're brothers after all. God. I feel so helpless. I don't know what to do for Andrew. I've been waiting on him, but he doesn't seem too interested in having a slave-sister, like he usually does when he gets injured and it's somehow one of our faults. Right now, he just looks gloomy and morose and I can't think of anything I can do to cheer him up.

I know who did it, of course. It was those damn bullies again. They've been picking on my little brother constantly and they even made a crack about me being a nutcase today. I hate them! Why can't they just grow up and act like normal people? Why can't they just leave my family alone? Haven't we already gone through enough without having those freakin' idiots terrorizing us? Haven't we?

Seriously, sometimes I think if there really is a God up there (Mom would be astonished to hear me say this, she's such a "good" Christian), maybe He's doing these things to us on purpose just to see what we'll do in response.

_later…_

Daddy's been home for only a half hour and I've been cowering in my dark bedroom with a stomachache.

See, Daddy's been yelling (which he never does) since he walked in the door about how somebody is going to pay for hurting his child. He keeps asking Andrew questions and yelling out the answers (right or wrong) before Andrew has the chance to speak. Poor Elizabeth has been trying to calm him down. She says he's raising his blood pressure, his scaring the kids, he's just making things worse for poor Andrew, but Daddy isn't listening to her.

I'm crying now. I can feel the tears on my face. I'm getting so stressed out right now. When I get stressed out like this, I'm so much more apt to have a flashback and I don't want to have a flashback! I'm going to find Benny and David Michael. They're always understanding about things like this.

_

* * *

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January 20

_I woke up with a jolt. My bedroom was still dark, so I decided to slip back into sleep instead of looking around to see what had awoken me. Moments later I felt a hand slip under my covers and close gently over my chest. A gasp escaped my mouth before a second hand clamped down over the top of it. I squinted my eyes and struggled to see who was in my room with me._

_"Shh, Karen. It's only me," my stepfather's voice said softly. Seth. Something must be wrong if he's in my bedroom this late at night. Was Mom hurt? I struggled to sit upright, but his hand kept me pinned to the bed. "Settle down, honey. There's nothing to worry about."_

_I sighed with relief and allowed myself to relax. His hand began to move the instant I slumped limply back against my mattress. I bit my inner cheek as it traveled someplace where I __**didn't**__ want it to be. I wiggled then, tugging Seth's hand from my mouth._

_"What are you doing?" I asked softly, still trying to squirm away from his roaming hand. It was touching a place where I had never been touched before. "Seth, I don't like that."_

_"Honey, calm down. It's all right."_

_I clenched my teeth in fear as I felt his hand tug my underwear down around my thighs. I tried to think of something else, but nothing could block out the feel of his fingers poking and prodding. I tried to sit up again._

_"Seth, that __**hurts**__." He shook his head gently. "Please! Stop it!"_

_Seth's hand wrapped around my throat and I began to whimper; too frightened to cry. He smiled at me and I looked down at my nightgown. It had been hiked up around my stomach and I could see his hand moving and touching. I cried out softly as I felt a finger push hard against me and squeezed my eyes shut._

_"You don't want to wake your mother up. Think about what she's going to say," my stepfather said softly. "You don't want to wake her up, __**do**__ you?"_

_The fight went out of me like the flick of a switch. What __**would**__ my mother say if she knew what was happening? I slumped back weakly and Seth moves his hand from my throat to stroke through my hair. _

_I can't help but cry out again as the finger that had been prodding so hard suddenly forces its way inside of me. Only this time, my cry is much softer and more resigned. I knew I couldn't make anymore noise and bit down hard on my lower lip._

_I wanted to go back to sleep again. _

_

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January 21

David Michael, Dad, and Elizabeth had to go to the Principal's office today, along with those nasty little thugs that have been picking on Andrew. The story that I heard about how this all went down was actually quite amazing and I am really proud of my stepbrother, even if I am, as a general rule, against violence.

Apparently, those bullies were starting to pick on poor Andrew again. He's in a cast, too, for crying out loud! I guess they started pushing him around when David Michael saw them and marched right over and demanded that they leave Andrew alone from this day forth. (OK, so they didn't talk the way I'm making them talk, but, diary, you understand the gist of what I'm trying to say.) Anyway, the little thugs didn't like what David Michael had to say and shoved Andrew into a snow mound and told D.M. to "make them." Personally, I would've helped Andrew up and gone straight to the middle school principal, but instead of doing that, David Michael hauled back and punched both of the little brats square in the mouths. I would've paid money to see that!

Then, David Michael helped Andrew up and said to the bullies "and leave my sister, Karen, alone, too." Awwww. My brother loves me!

Daddy and Elizabeth are at a loss for what to do. I overheard them discussing this whole situation in the kitchen this afternoon. I figured I'd better put down in here what I heard:

**Elizabeth:** What are we going to do?

**Daddy: **I have no idea. I know that Karen and Andrew are both thrilled now that David Michael has stood up for them. He's like their personal hero now.

**Elizabeth: **But, we don't want to encourage them to be hitting and punching. David Michael can't be their hero.

**Daddy: **Well, what are we going to do to stop the two of them from thinking he's their hero. A lobotomy?

**Kristy:** Cool, who's getting the lobotomy? I bet it's Sam, that horny little toad.

**Elizabeth: **Kristy, please, we're talking about something very important. Family things.

**Kristy: **Well, I'm an adult and family, too. Let me in on the discussion.

**Daddy: **Kristen, please leave now.

**Kristy: **Wow, no kidding. I'll be in my room if anyone ever wants me again**.**

**Elizabeth: **You didn't need to be so strict.

**Daddy: **I just don't know what to do**. **

(shuffling and no doubt they were hugging and maybe kissing)

**Elizabeth: **We'll find a way to get these kids all on the right track again, honey. I promise.

**Daddy: **I'm just so scared for them. Especially David Michael and Karen. He's bound to lose his temper again and who knows who'll get hurt and how badly. And my baby girl? That son of a bitch still has his claws to her throat and she's still haunted by nightmare and flashbacks.

**Elizabeth: **We'll find some way to fix them and get through to the true kids they are underneath all of the bad stuff.

**Daddy: **I hope you're right.

It's 3:45 am and I haven't slept a wink.

_

* * *

_

January 22

This is how it works  
It feels a little worse  
Than when we drove our hearse  
Right through that screaming crowd

While laughing up a storm  
Until we were just bone  
Until it got so warm  
That none of us could sleep

And all the Styrofoam  
Began to melt away  
We tried to find some words  
To aid in the decay

But none of them were home  
Inside their catacomb  
A million ancient bees  
Began to sting our knees

While we were on our knees  
Praying that disease  
Would leave the ones we love  
And never come again

On the radio  
We heard, 'November Rain'  
That solo's really long  
But it's a pretty song  
We listened to it twice  
'Cause the DJ was asleep

This is how it works  
You're young until you're not  
You love until you don't  
You try until you can't

You laugh until you cry  
You cry until you laugh  
And everyone must breathe  
Until their dying breath

No, this is how it works  
You peer inside yourself  
You take the things you like  
And try to love the things you took

And then you take that love you made  
And stick it into some  
Someone else's heart  
Pumping someone else's blood

And walking arm in arm  
You hope it don't get harmed  
But even if it does  
You'll just do it all again

And on the radio  
You hear, 'November Rain'  
That solo's awful long  
But it's a good refrain  
You listen to it twice  
'Cause the DJ is asleep

On the radio, on the radio  
On the radio, uh oh, on the radio, uh oh  
On the radio, uh oh, on the radio

_**"On the Radio" by Regina Spektor**_

_

* * *

_

January 25

_My heart was beating hard inside my thin chest. We were playing __Hide and Seek__ with our stepfather, Seth, and I didn't want to get caught first. Then, I'd have to be the next seeker and I hated having to seek. It was seriously the worst part of the game, especially since Andrew was such an amazing hider._

_I tried to make my breathing even shallower when I heard Seth come into the sewing room where I was hiding. He closed the door behind him, making a show of checking behind it for one of us. I watched with wide eyes as he searched the room and finally squatted down in front of where I was hiding. Our eyes met and my heart jumped into my throat._

_"Caught you, Karen," he whispered. I sighed heavily._

_"Drat. I hate being the seeker," I confessed. _

_Seth stared at me for a long time then reached out his hand to pull me out from behind the masses of hanging fabric. I followed to where he was leading me. Seth stood up and turned towards the door. I noticed that he was locking it and immediately panic washed over me._

_"Seth, not again…" I pleaded and he just smiled. _

_"Come here, my beautiful little princess," he replied finally and swept me into his arms. I lie limp, not wanting to encourage him in any way. It didn't matter._

_He set me down on the overstuffed blue chair that Mom used to drape her nearly finished projects on. I tried to stand back up, but Seth pushed me back down, his lips suddenly on mine, hungrily trying to part them. I closed my eyes and began to whimper as his strong, big hands pressed down on my hips, hurting them. I bucked against him and he smiled._

_"God, you are __**so**__ sexy," he murmured and began to kiss and lick down my exposed neck. I couldn't stop myself from shaking. He caught the hem of my shirt and started to slowly pull it up over my head when a knock came at the door._

_"Hello?" Mom called. "Who's in there?"_

_"__Mom!__" I called back._

_"Karen, what are you doing in the sewing room? And why is the door locked? Come open it."_

_Seth stood and moved away from me. The crotch of his pants was tight and fuller that it was before he came in the room. I stood up quickly and adjusted my shirt. I ran to the door and opened it, overwhelming glad to see my mother. I hugged her tight before racing out of the room and down the hall._

_"What's wrong with her?" I heard Mom ask Seth._

_"She's just upset because I caught her first while we were playing __Hide and Seek__."_

_

* * *

_

January 28

There's no school today. Teacher conferencing day or some lame thing like that. Lauren came by the house to say hi and hang out. I didn't invite her over, but I really don't mind having her here. It's different (and kind of better) than hanging out with my brothers and sisters all the time. I mean, the ones my age are boys and the girls are either much older or much younger than I am. It was nice to have a girl my age on my side for once.

We watched some movies, but halfway through Braveheart, Lauren took the remote and paused the movie. I looked over at her expectantly. She cleared her throat.

"I have something I want to tell you, but you have to promise to keep it to yourself," she said. I nodded I had plenty of secrets of my own.

"No problem," I agreed.

Lauren nodded, shut her eyes and began talking:

"_From as early on as I can remember, my mother and father used to fight constantly. Not even the quiet kind of arguing that I'm sure your parents do when they're upset or annoyed with one another. __**Real**__ fighting. Like, screaming and shoving at one another. I used to run and hide in the coat closet while they fought. I would stuff my mother's fur coat around my head to help block out all of the noise._

_"It took me years to figure out why my mother finally left. She left me and Dad because she had a new man in her life. She was going to divorce my father, she said one night, and marry this new man. Ian. That was his name. She said that Ian treated her better than Dad did and that she and Ian __**never**__ fought with one another. __**Ever**__. _

_"Dad went ballistic and started screaming at her and calling her a whore. I was only about five then, so I wasn't sure what the words they screamed at one another meant, but I figured it out eventually. Anyways, Dad screamed and yelled and so did Mom and then suddenly there was the sound of shattering glass. I ran out of the closet to see what had happened and saw Mom sitting, dazed, under the shattered picture window in our living room. Dad was staring down at her as though it was the first time he had ever seen her. He offered her his hand and she punched it away. He looked at me._

_"Get your mother up and help her leave," he said coldly and stormed into the room that was both of theirs and would change almost immediately into solely his own._

_"I helped Mom, of course. I figured that I would probably be going with her. Kids and moms stick together, right? Well, not __**my**__ mother. She let me carry one of her bulky suitcases down the stairs and to the car that was waiting for us. A tall man with black hair and black eyes took her luggage and packed it into the car. He looked down at me when my mother told him that this was the last of the luggage._

_"You're a sport," he said and got into the car. Mom leaned down to hug and kiss me before jumping into the car beside the tall man. Without another word, the car peeled out of our driveway and Dad let me stand out there, staring in the direction they had taken, for about ten minutes before yelling at me to come back inside. _

_"I was six when Dad started to hit me. Just after I started kindergarten, he'd slap me for giving him sass or for looking at him funny, even. One time, he hit me so hard that I fell against the wall and broke my wrist. I had to tell a stupid story about jumping out of a swing to cover for him._

_"Anyways, it wasn't until I was ten that DCFS caught whiff of what was going on at our house and pulled me out of there in a heartbeat. They also sent my dad to jail for assault and battery, since they realized that my dad was hitting me after he lost control and punched me in the face when he came to pick me up at school and I told him I failed a test._

_"So, now I'm living with this nice family and it's been great. It really has. I mean, I miss my dad a lot, of course. It wasn't __**always**__ shitty or horrible living with him. Still, it's nice not to have to watch my mouth all the time. I like knowing that I don't have to worry about everything I say or do in case I get hit for it._

_"Karen, __**really**__. It's so much better now. You have no idea"_

I wanted to tell her that I had an idea about it being better now, but still being shitty, but all I did was nod my head and smile.

_

* * *

_

January 29

Today's another day of no school. I am happy that I don't have to face my classmates quite yet. I don't know whether or not they'll make fun of my poor little brother and I guess I could just use the extra time to become ready for that possibility. Anyway, I finished all of my homework yesterday, so I'm just going to spend today bracing myself and watching movies. Not to mention playing music constantly because I can't go ten minutes at home without my IPod.

I am so depressed, even though I don't normally write about it and I wouldn't dare to say it. It's about the fading thing. I don't know if I'm depressed because I feel like I'm fading out of everyone's lives or if I'm fading because I'm depressed. I don't know which is the cause of which. Of course, does it even matter?

Sometimes, my skin even looks like it has a grayish hue to it.

Adia I do believe I failed you  
Adia I know I let you down  
don't you know I tried so hard  
to love you in my way  
it's easy let it go...

Adia I'm empty since you left me  
trying to find a way to carry on  
I search myself and everyone  
to see where we went wrong

'cause there's no one left to finger  
there's no one here to blame  
there's no one left to talk to honey  
and there ain't no one to buy our innocence  
'cause we are born innocent  
believe me Adia, we are still innocent  
it's easy, we all falter  
does it matter?

Adia I thought that we could make it  
but I know I can't change the way you feel  
I leave you with your misery  
a friend who won't betray  
I pull you from your tower  
I take away your pain  
and show you all the beauty you possess  
if you'd only let yourself believe that  
we are born innocent  
believe me Adia, we are still innocent  
it's easy, we all falter, does it matter?  
believe me Adia, we are still innocent  
'cause we are born innocent  
Adia we are still  
it's easy, we all falter ... but does it matter?

_**"Adia" by Sarah McLachlan**_


	3. Talk of Love

**Part Three: Talk of Love**

_

* * *

_

January 30

Well, it's back to school for us lowly peons. I said that I was looking forward to going back, but now that it's the morning of, my stomach is starting to eat itself in protest of going back to that place. It's like a mandatory prison for teenagers and nobody gets out of going. Except maybe the home schooled kids and maybe their parents are even crazier than the teachers that they slap on us. Elizabeth made a big breakfast for everyone to get us all excited about going back.

Nice try.

_later…_

Diary, I think I might be a bad person. I don't know for sure. Here, let me tell you and you can judge for yourself.

I found out that the new girl, Lauren, is in most of my classes this semester. We sat together because, frankly, neither of us have anyone else to sit next to. The only class that I have with either of my brothers is Civics with Benny. Otherwise, I'm pretty much on my own. I've gotten used to that. After all, most of my friends wanted nothing to do with me since I started acting out in school aka having flashbacks and having panic attacks. One by one, my "friends" decided that they didn't want to try and stick it out with me. They just didn't want my "episodes" to be a bad reflection on their precious social lives.

Anyways, I spent most of the day with Lauren and I guess that we had as much fun as one can have while in high school. We ate lunch together and split an ice cream. We even went into the bathroom after lunch and talked until the bell rang for our next class.

Yet, when Lauren asked if we could hang out, I made up an excuse about needing to baby-sit for Kristy's kids, Maggie and Nora, this afternoon because nobody else would be around and she and Pete wanted to go on a date. It was all a lie. Everyone was going to be home today, including Kristy and the girls. I just didn't want to spend anymore time with Lauren that day.

I hope I get over that. Lauren is pretty cool and I should like spending time with her. It's just that sometimes I get this overwhelming urge to be alone and secluded, like I'm the last girl on the face of the Earth or something. I just don't want anyone near me, not even my sweet baby sisters.

_

* * *

_

February 1

_"Karen?"_

_Oh, no. Seth._

_"Yes?"_

_"Come outside and help me rake up the backyard," my stepfather said. His eyes had that certain shine in them that meant that nothing good was going to come to me if I disagreed. He had slowly become more and more outwardly abusive and Mom was either looking the other way or didn't even notice. Of course, he kept the "special" abuse tucked away from Mom where only he and I knew about it. As far as Mom knew, Seth was just getting a little slappy because of work-related stress. Nothing good, but what could she do?_

_I followed him outside and dutifully picked up a rake and began to sweep the leaves into a pile. After a few minutes, Seth suddenly caught me around the waist with one arm and pressed his lips against my ear._

_"You look __**so**__ good when you do that, honey," he whispered. I shuddered and squirmed to get away from him._

_"Leave me alone," I protested._

_"Your ass is so tight when you move." He made a content sound and I closed my eyes. His arm shifted so that his hand was resting squarely on my stomach. "Do you even realize how __**hard**__ you make me?"_

_"__**Seth, no!**__" I tried to yell, but it only came out as a whimper. His hand shot down between my legs and pressed. Hard. I yelped and struggled and felt his hardness behind me._

_"Oh, God, Karen, keep doing that, honey," he told me, his voice thick. I broke free and ran for the house. "Karen!"_

_I didn't bother to look back._

_

* * *

_

February 2

I haven't talked about myself in such a long time. It's weird. Sometimes, that's all I want to talk about in here and it's hell trying to hold myself back from blathering on and on about me, me, me. Sometimes, though, I just have nothing to say about myself, so I talk about everything but.

The flashbacks are wearing thin on me. I'm getting sick of them. Not that I was a huge fan of them in the first place, but right now, I am just so tired of them. I can smell, taste, and feel everything all over again and, to someone who has never had a flashback before, they are wickedly intense. It's like being there all over again. It's like Seth's hands are on my body again, feeling and probing even when I cry out for him to stop. I hate when they happen at school. Everyone must think I am a huge freak for crying out for my stepfather to stop abusing me when nobody is even touching me. I even think I'm a freak sometimes.

Sometimes, I feel like I need a boyfriend, someone to take away all the tears and hurt and to cuddle away my demons. Only, I know that I'm too screwed up right now to have a boyfriend. I would only end up hurting him and besides, I'm pretty sure that there aren't any guys who would be willing to have me anyways. Who wants to be with the freak girl who shouts out in class and acts like a major spaz?

I wouldn't want to be with someone like that and I wouldn't blame anyone for not wanting to be with me.

_

* * *

_

February 5

I never jumped in and rescued you,  
but I wanted to  
I didn't tell you which way to go,  
'cause I thought you'd know  
You had a problem with your new found  
wealth, you brought it on yourself  
I never told you I told you so, but I told you so

Have to let it go  
It's time to let it go  
Now I can't believe  
It took so long to leave  
Perhaps one day I'll grieve  
Or I never will

I never told you I agreed with you,  
I don't think I do  
I wasn't sure quite what the whole thing  
meant, but I'm glad you went  
I never thought that it could be painless,  
but it is I guess  
I had myself fooled into needing you,  
did I fool you too?

Have to let it go  
it's time to let it go  
Now I can't believe  
It took so long to leave  
Perhaps one day I'll grieve  
Or I never will

A viral infection that can incubate for years  
Caused by affection fallen deep into arrears  
No medication to procure  
Makes me pure, there's no cure, I am sure

I never mentioned how I've prayed for you,  
and now I've paid for you  
I never said that I would wait for you,  
it's too late for you

Have to let it go  
it's time to let it go  
Now I can't believe  
It took so long to leave  
Perhaps one day I'll grieve  
Or I never will

"_Told You So" by the Barenaked Ladies_

_

* * *

_

February 6

Lauren and I went to get paint for my bedroom after school today. Since school is pretty close to "Downtown Stoneybrook," we decided to walk it then call Kristy and see if she (along with the twins since Lauren is all mushy and gushy about those little girls) would pick us up. Kristy told me yes on both accounts this morning and also said that Lauren wouldn't be so enthralled with the twins if they were hers. I agreed with Kristy. Maggie and Nora are fun… to a point.

Anyways, we finally decided upon a pale green and "wooden swing" brown paint. The hardwood beneath my carpet (the one Kristy and I tore up about a month or two ago) is beautiful, so Daddy and I decided that we would keep the hardwood visible and work from there. Then he offered to have an interior decorater design my room and I protested. Finally, we reached an agreement. I would pick out everything, professionals would do the painting and the moving and arranging of furniture, then I could hang up my posters and pictures wherever I wanted to.

Strange thing, though. Lauren asked me if I liked anyone. Where has she been? Of course I don't like anyone. I'm the sexually traumatized girl, remember? I don't get crushes. Anyways, I answered her politely and she looked a little downcast. I asked why and she just said that she had thought of someone that might've been good for me, but then she wouldn't tell me who. Now I'm all confused and, frankly, fascinated and I really want to know who Lauren is thinking of pairing me off with. She thinks she's found someone who would want to be with me and all of my issues? Who is this amazing stranger?

In other news, I finished my book about Anne Boleyn. It was great. The details were excellent and it really made me feel sorry for poor Anne. In fact, I cried throughout the book, it was so well written and Anne's trials were so harsh and many. She didn't even really love Henry VIII; the man she really loved was married off to someone else. Percy or something. God, I wish I could've lived then, just for a little while so that I could've offered her some kind of comfort and relief.

I wish someone, someday, will read this and think the same exact thing about me.

_

* * *

_

February 7

I've decided to write my own historical fiction novel. I think that I could be really good at it and I think that I could really write something good, you know?

There was a boy at school today checking me out. I didn't like it at all. I really hated the way he smiled at me when I felt his eyes on me and turned. It was like the smile Seth gave me, like he knew exactly what I looked like without my clothes on. I almost had a panic attack right there in Trig class, but I managed to excuse myself to bathroom and had a good cry instead. A couple of the girls already in there put wet washcloths on the back of my neck and on my forehead. Once I was done crying, they applied some makeup to my face so that it wouldn't look like I had been crying.

I guess there are some good people in the world after all.

_

* * *

_

February 10

We're going to London for Spring Break this year. Everyone. Grace is finally old enough, even though she's only 6 years old, that we can bring her along with us instead of asking Nannie to stay at home with her while the rest of the family hits the road.

I've never been to London before and I am really looking forward to being there. I have already made a shopping list length of things to do while I am there. After all, we'll be there for two whole weeks (Dad and Elizabeth are pulling us out of school for an extra week, which is fine by me), so I want to make sure that I do all the things that I really want to do while I'm there. Of course, Daddy is taking us girls to Paris for a weekend while Mom is going to Madrid that same weekend. It's going to be so complicated, but so much fun. I told my brothers to buy me things while they're in Madrid and they promised, so long as I bought them things while we were in Paris. No problem, boys.

Maybe it's just the talk of London and Paris and Madrid, but I am in a better mood today than I have been in a while. I feel like doing something with someone. I'll probably call Lauren once I'm done writing, but it's true. And, I don't know how I can go from being depressed one day to feeling almost back to my old, normal self another day. Did I have bipolar disease or is this how you heal from rape? Maybe I should've stayed just a little longer with that therapist, just to know whether or not what I'm feeling is normal or if I'm completely out of my head.

_

* * *

_

February 11

"_Hey, honey. What are you up to?"_

_I nearly screamed for my mother, but managed to hold back even the slightest shudder of rage and disgust. I didn't give him the satisfaction of an answer, so he pulled a chair up to my desk so that he could lean close to me and watch my movements. I cleared my throat._

_"It's kind of hard to work with someone hanging over my shoulder," I said in a tight voice. Seth's fingers brushed my hair to the side, to bare the skin on the back of my neck. I shivered when he began to plant soft, feathery kisses to the tender skin. "Please, Seth?"_

_"You look like you need a break." He stood up abruptly and put his hand on my shoulder. His fingers massaged me gently. "Want to get some ice cream?"_

_I shook my head. "I'm all right, thanks."_

_**GO AWAY!**_

_He was quiet for a long moment. I hated it when my stepfather was quiet. It meant that he was thinking._

"_There's something __**else**__ we could do," he said in a seductive voice, both hands now on my shoulders. A panicked gasp came out of my mouth. "Come on, Karen. Get up."_

_I hesitated momentarily before I climbed to my feet as best as I could with his claw-like fingers digging into my shoulders. I wanted to start crying, but the tears were frozen from fear in the back of my throat. I struggled to swallow as he turned me around to face him. Seth was quite a bit taller than me and I had to tilt back my head as he commanded to that I look at him._

_I held my tears back as he pressed his mouth against mine and forced his tongue inside. It felt too big inside my mouth and I had to fight gagging on it when he cupped the back of my head to push his tongue farther inside. I began to really panic then, feeling trapped between his hand and his mouth._

_He pulled his fat, disgusting tongue out of my mouth and I bit my lips to keep from spitting. I held back my tears once more as he tugged my shirt up over my body so that I had only my bra protecting my chest. I raised my arms and crossed them over my chest, shivering in fear and anger. I resisted him as he unsnapped my bra, forced my arms down, and discarded that bit of clothing. He roughly forced me backwards until I felt the wall press into my shoulders._

_I did start to cry as he unzipped my jeans and slid them down to the ground and ordered me to step out of them. I covered my eyes, hoping to cup and hide my tears. I obeyed and heard my jeans being kicked away. Clearly impatient now and breathing heavily, Seth tore at my underwear, jerking it down to my ankles._

"_Open your eyes, Karen. I want to see your pretty blue eyes," he demanded. I let my hands fall limply to my sides and warily opened my eyes. He smiled. "That's my little girl."_

_Without warning, he grabbed hard onto my thighs and hoisted me up off the ground. I yelped in surprise and panic, my underwear fell unceremoniously to the ground. Seth nudged my knees apart and forced his body between my legs. I pressed my fingers helplessly into his shirt, staring up at him in pleading._

"_Don't squirm," he warned softly, leaning his face close to mine. "It'll only hurt more."_

_I started to cry harder but a pain that split me down the middle stalled the cries in my throat. I gaped up at him in horror then let out a single, anguished scream which he covered with his mouth._

_

* * *

_

February 13

When I find myself in times of trouble  
Mother Mary comes to me  
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be  
And in my hour of darkness  
She is standing right in front of me  
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be  
Let it be, let it be  
Let it be, let it be  
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be

And when the broken hearted people  
Living in the world agree  
There will be an answer, let it be  
For though they may be parted  
There is still a chance that they will see  
There will be an answer, let it be  
Let it be, let it be  
Let it be, let it be  
Yeah there will be an answer, let it be  
Let it be, let it be  
Let it be, let it be  
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be

Let it be, let it be  
Ah let it be, yeah let it be  
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be  
And when the night is cloudy  
There is still a light that shines on me  
Shine on until tomorrow, let it be  
I wake up to the sound of music,  
Mother Mary comes to me  
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be  
Yeah let it be, let it be  
Let it be, yeah let it be  
Oh there will be an answer, let it be  
Let it be, let it be  
Let it be, yeah let it be  
Oh there will be an answer, let it be  
Let it be, let it be  
Ah let it be, yeah let it be  
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be

"_Let It Be" by the Beatles_

_

* * *

_

February 14

Today, when I opened my locker to take home what I needed for homework, a red heart fluttered to the ground. It was made from cardstock and had lace and ribbons on it, but was very well put together. It was gorgeous, in fact. I stared at the thing overall before noticing the tiny poem etched in the center of the heart:

On this day of love, I have a love

One true, everlasting, sweet love

Whose eyes flutter and whose lips speak

The sweetest words

That man has ever thought to seek

Will you be mine, perfect one?

I have to admit that I was a little blown away. I mean, after all, who would like to call me their "perfect one." I was far from perfect, so how could anyone even think to call me that. Still, that didn't stop the happy little butterflies flutter around in my stomach.

This could've stayed a secret, too, but it fell out of my diary as I was carrying my things upstairs to my bedroom and Emily Michelle, of all people, found it. She read it over twice and found me to demand who sent it. When I said that I didn't know, she threatened to show it to Daddy and Elizabeth, so I offered up a fake name and told her that I didn't even like him, but I was keeping the card because it was so fancy. She seemed satisfied with that answer.

I'm taping the card inside of you, Diary darling. It's the safest place I have. Nobody reads this diary because I have it on me at all times. I'll have to figure out who sent it tomorrow. Right now, it's time for bed. G'night.


	4. Girlfriends

**Part Four: Girlfriends**

* * *

_February 16_

Lauren has been on my case about something and I am really surprised that I haven't written a scrap of it down in here yet. (P.S. the gold lining on the pages in starting to flake off.) She's been going on and on about the two of us auditioning for the school's musical. I know. Can you even imagine it? Me, up on stage, singing and dancing? Maybe the old Karen Brewer would've loved to do something like that, but the new Karen Brewer thinks that it sounds like the worst idea ever.

Still, you should see Lauren's face every time we get to talking about this. She is just so into this idea that I don't think I have the heart to tell her that the idea of being stared at and on display makes me want to vomit. Still, though, Lauren is being very persistent and she is, after all, the first person outside of my family and teachers who have taken any kind of interest in me whatsoever. I guess I owe her something for that. Besides, I bet my audition will be so horrible that I won't even be cast in the musical. But, I'll be able to say that I tried.

Now. About that mystery Valentine.

I've been studying the thing from all angles and with my magnifying glass, too. It really is a mystery. Emily Michelle thinks that maybe a girl made it, it's so pretty and it obvious had someone take a lot of time to craft it. I told her that I wasn't a lesbian and Emily Michelle said I didn't have to be one to get a valentine from one. Sometimes, that girl is a lot smarter than I give her credit for. Maybe I just don't give her much credit because she's my little sister.

Honestly, though, I'm not sure what to think about this whole thing. I don't know if I like the idea of someone liking me enough to send a valentine to me anonymously. I guess I'm just not sure if I want to have a relationship with anyone, especially a boy right now. I'm still struggling with everything that my bastard of an ex-stepfather did to me to be any kind of a good girlfriend.

Besides, who would want a nut job like me anyways?

_

* * *

_

February 17

I've been working on my novel. Of course, it's going to be the next top-seller. Of course. Anyways. It's been a lot harder to work on than I expected it to be. I thought that since I had been reading so many books like what I wanted to write, it would be a snap to write up a book just like those books. Unfortunately, it's been so much harder to do that I'm beginning to worry if I can even do this.

However, I am not going to quit. I've quit enough things since Seth raped me. (See? I can finally say it!) I am going to show that son of a bitch that I am not a quitter and that I do not give in just because he thinks he got into my head. Because I am pushing him right back out and into the gutter where he belongs again.

Gosh. My book. So far, I have accomplished the task of creating a rough outline for the entire book. It's going to be a short book- only 20 chapters or so- but I think that it will be just the right length. I've also worked on fleshy out the characters, the main character being a slightly overweight brown haired, blue eyed girl of about sixteen who is new to being one of the ladies waiting on the queen. Her parents held her back until the king demanded that she come to court. Her name is Jane and she's worried that the king will take too much interest in her and want her to become his next mistress.

Besides the book, though, I've been feeling rather down. Maybe not quite as awfully as before, but still pretty down. I let Elizabeth hold me last night and I let her call a new therapist this morning. This therapist is a therapist who works with teenagers who suffered from childhood sexual abuse. Not some adult therapist who has no idea what the hell to do with me. Nobody knows what to do with me. Except that Elizabeth said that this woman (A lady doctor at last! Elizabeth listened to what I had to say!) has had plenty of experience with teens just like me (just like me? I doubt it.) and will be able to finally help me sort out the traumas that Seth left behind. The son of a bitch.

* * *

_February 18_

I was just bony hands as cold as a winter pole  
You held a warm stone out new flowing blood to hold  
Oh what a contrast you were  
To the brutes in the halls  
My timid young fingers held a decent animal.

Over the ramparts you tossed  
The scent of your skin and some foreign flowers  
Tied to a brick  
Sweet as a song  
The years have seemed short but the days were long.

Cool of a temperate breeze from dark skies to wet grass  
We fell in a field it seems now a thousand summers passed  
When our kite lines first crossed  
We tied them into knots  
And to finally fly apart  
We had to cut them off.

Since then it's been a book you read in reverse  
So you understand less as the pages turn  
Or a movie so crass  
And awkwardly cast  
That even I could be the star.

I don't look back much as a rule  
And all this way before murder was cool  
But your memory is here and I'd like it to stay  
Warm light on a winter's day.

Over the ramparts you tossed  
The scent of your skin and some foreign flowers  
Tied to a brick  
Sweet as a song  
The years have seemed short but the days go slowly by  
Two loose kites falling from the sky  
Drawn to the ground and an end to flight.

"Pink Bullets" by The Shins

* * *

_February 20_

Diary, Lauren and I rehearsed tonight for the first time. For the musical, remember? Lauren wanted me to try out with her because she doesn't know anybody- funny thing is, I don't know anybody either. We're just going to be a couple of loners if we make it. Actually, I shouldn't say "if." At least not in Lauren's case. If I had been in a pool of water, she would have literally blown me out of it tonight. My _God._

Her voice is absolutely amazing, is what it is. I had this idea that Lauren would be one of those drama nerds who is really, really into theater, but is sadly not very good at her passion. You know, nasally voice and awkward cracking everywhere. Nope. Not a single crack in her flawless, strong, gorgeous voice. My jaw dropped as soon as she started to sing. After a couple of minutes, Emily Michelle, who is going through this hopelessly romantic Broadway phase in her life drifted in and just kind of stood in the door to the conservatory and was baffled-looking. She, of course, applauded thunderously once Lauren was finished singing. Then I had to go. It was humiliating having to sing after The Voice. Ugh.

I don't know what Lauren is expecting, but with her beautiful voice, there is no way that I am going to get into the musical. She's just too good. She'll snatch up the lead role and I know that they say no to me because um, hi, they'll hear my voice, and then she'll be shocked and confused and ask me why I didn't get in and it will be awkward as hell. I am kind of starting to hate this. I really don't know what she expects me to other than to sing and tuck my proverbial tail between my legs.

I really wish I did have her voice, though. _Wow_. Maybe if I had been as talented as she is, I wouldn't have been at home for Seth to abuse me. I would've been out there, singing my lungs out. True, poor Lauren also has had a shitty time of it, but with that voice? At least God decided to bestow some kind of gift in return upon her. What did I get? A loud family that never leaves me alone.

Awesome.

* * *

_February 21_

Oh, God! Oh, God!

I was worrying so much about this stupid musical thing so much last night that I completely forgot about my geometry test today! How could I be so stupid? I worried about something that I probably won't end up doing anyways while I should've been studying for a class that I'm not doing all that great in to begin with.

Daddy is going to kill me if I fail, especially if he finds out that I didn't even study for this test. He always knows when I don't study. I don't know how. It's like he has this bizarre radar or something on him that always lets him know.

Oh, God!

I had better stop writing and try to study now.

_later… _

I can't believe it. I can't believe what I've done. I'm a good girl. Normally, I don't do things like this, but today… I don't know what came over me…

I cheated on my geometry test. And, it was easy to cheat, too.

Brett Forrester had his test wide open for the whole class to see if they wanted to. And he's easily the smartest math geek in the class, unlike the kids like me who are just barely scraping by. Anyways, I just cast my eyes over to his paper and copied down his work and his answers, everything, and sat there and waited for the rest of the class to finish. It was a weird feeling. I'm usually one of the last kids done in that class.

I wonder if Daddy is going to be able to tell. Like he's able to tell when I don't study and when I'm lying to him. Elizabeth's good at telling those things, too. God, now I'm starting to get freaked out. I shouldn't have cheated. Everyone is going to find out and I am going to get into so much trouble…

THAT STUPID MUSICAL!!!!!

* * *

_February 22_

I told Lauren today about the test. I figure that she's becoming a good friend of mine and that good friends tell each other pretty much everything. Even if it is embarrassing and shameful. It's just something you do with good friends. I did it with my friends that I had before Seth started abusing me. Most of those friends decided not to stick around with a crazy, messed Karen anyways.

But, I can't believe what Lauren said to me.

She told me that I had to tell everyone what I did and accept the consequences.

GOD!!!  
Since when did she become Little Miss Conscience? It's bad enough my own is already chewing me up for what I did, but does she have to, too? Doesn't she even care about me or what saying that means to me?

Apparently not, because she stuck to her guns even when I told her everything I just told you, Diary. She said it was the only way to fix my conscience and to make things right with the teacher and with my test scores. She said I didn't deserve to get another person's grade on that test (I agree, but that isn't the point) and I told her to get off her high horse. It wasn't like she had never done anything like this before.

So she goes on and on about how she never did because her father would've beat her harder and her foster parents would've punished her worse if she did.

Self-righteous bitch.

I HATE HER.

* * *

_February 24_

_I was reading on my bed when I heard the door creak open then close and lock. I peered over the top of my book to see my stepfather smile at me. My stomach dropped and my heart skipped a beat, even though it was a fairly innocent smile. I swallowed hard and pretended that he didn't lock the door._

_"Hi, Seth," I greeted him. His smiled widened and he sunk down on the mattress next to me._

_"What's that you're reading?" he asked, trying to cock his head so that he could read the title. I forced a laugh and held it upright._

_"Whoa, __To Kill a Mockingbird__," he said. "When did you get old enough to start reading books like that?"_

_"It was at my dad's house and I decided to read it. No big deal."_

_I prayed that he would just go away and leave me alone. Of course, he didn't. He never left me along nowadays. He was always around, always touching, trying to play innocent if anyone asked, but I knew. He was a pervert who wanted me._

_He leaned down, pressing his arm over the top of me. I swallowed again and started to sit up, but my chest brushed against his arm and he smiled. _

_"Pull up your top, Kare," he whispered. _

_"What?"_

_"Do it __now__."_

_His voice scared me and I obediently pulled up the hem of my t-shirt to reveal my stomach and training bra. Seth yanked that up harshly, clapping his hand over my mouth to stop the involuntary cry I let out._

_Bending down, he sucked hard at each of my breasts (the starts of my breast, at least) and put my hand over the place in his pants which always got hard when he started touching me in ways I knew he wasn't supposed to. He made me rub until his voice made a funny cracking sound and he seemed limp all over for a few minutes. Then, like a real, gentle dad, he helped me get dressed and kissed me on the forehead._

_"Don't tell your mother?"_

_"No," I whispered. I was too ashamed to even think about what had just happened._

* * *

_February 25_

I've forgiven Lauren. My head is cleared a little more today than it was the last time I saw her and I realize that she was only trying to help me. She wasn't trying to boss me around or, worse, pretend to be my conscience. She was just saying what she thought the right thing to do was and I have to commend her for that.

I called her last night after having that stupid flashback and told her that I was sorry for being such a bitch to her. I swear, Lauren must be a saint or something because she just laughed and said that it was no big deal. That she understood why I was so angry and that she would've been just as angry if our positions had been reversed.

So, we talked a while and then the subject of the informal little dance the high school is throwing to raise some money for the band to go to Chicago next year came up. At first, we agreed that only the truly lame and pathetic would be there. Then, we decided that maybe we should check it out just to see just how lame and pathetic it would be. Then, we decided to dress up and really have some fun with it since we have nothing to do this weekend anyways. Then, somehow, we managed to rope both David Michael and Benny into coming with us as our escorts (DM as hers and Benny as mine).

We were thinking of wearing the most old-fashioned stuff as possible, just to be funny. I mean, our attic is filled to the brim with old clothing and I don't just mean clothes that my parents wore when they were kids. I'm talking about things my great-great grandparents wore when _they_ were kids. Of course, I'll have to double check with Daddy and Elizabeth to make sure that we can wear those clothes (they might be worth a lot of money) first.

I think this is going to end up being a lot of fun.

* * *

_February 27_

Well this is just between us but between us let's get high  
In pictures I have seen her and to see her is truly fine  
She's on fire  
She's on fire

Flowers in her evening set I get the feeling she won't forget  
And there's times you'd long to be her but to be her is surely blinding  
She's on fire  
She's on fire  
She's on to me  
And I'm over me  
She's on fire

And if I could be inside her light  
I would steal enough to make my way into the night  
And if I could be inside her light I might just find I'd be alright

Well it's not just a daydream if you decide to make it your life  
And this is not between us but between us let's keep getting back to where it's from  
She's on fire  
She's on fire  
She's on to me  
And I'm over me  
She's on fire  
She's on to me  
And I'm over me  
She's over me  
And I'm on to her  
She's on fire  
She's on fire  
She's on fire

"She's on Fire" by Train

* * *

_February 28_

I don't really know what's come over me, but last night I felt so angry and protective of David Michael, it just wasn't even funny.

Lauren's my friend. And he's my stepbrother. I mean, I should be happy if they get together, right? It would be nice to see each of them happy with the other, wouldn't it? I mean, I really am no harboring any secret feelings for David Michael. After all, he's been my stepbrother since we were tiny. He's basically like my brother, rather than a stepbrother. But, still, I was really kind of annoyed and angry any time the two of them would dance together. Benny tried to distract me and I really thank him for that, but it didn't make much of a difference. I still felt myself boiling up.

What's wrong with me? Why can I not stand to see anyone else around me happy? Am I selfish or is this somehow Seth's doing? I know I can't blame everything on him (though I'd love to), but having messed up romantic feelings could definitely fall under something that he screwed up.

* * *

_February 29_

All right. I'm just going to tell this in narrative instead of trying to analyze it because my brain just isn't ready for that yet. Who knows when my brain will ever be ready? Anyways! Here's what happened after school today:

I was walking home from school with Lauren. My brothers seemed to have decided that Lauren is an appropriate friend for me to have and have stopped insisting on walking home with us. It's been kind of nice not to have my brothers hanging around me like protective guardians or something.

Anyways, as we were walking, I stopped listening to what Lauren was saying and starting thinking that about how nice it was to finally have another girlfriend. It's been such a long time since I've really had any girls who wanted to spend time with me (I think the whole freaky raped girl thing puts most people off) and I've been soaking it up like the first rays of summer sunshine.

Then Lauren stopped walking. I stopped, too.

"Why'd you stop?" I asked her. She shook her head.

"Haven't you been listening at all?" she demanded and before I could say anything, she grabbed either side of my head and pressed her mouth against mine.

I was too stunned to do anything. I let her press her tongue past my teeth and into my mouth. I didn't protest when one of her hands moved to gently cup the back of my head. I just stood there.

I'm still in shock.


	5. Forgetting and Ignoring

**Part Five: Ignoring and Forgetting**

* * *

_March 1_

Lauren has called exactly three times since yesterday. I've counted, but I haven't taken any of them.

Elizabeth says I'm being rude not to talk to my friend, especially when Lauren must know that I'm at home, but I didn't tell Elizabeth that Lauren kissed me the last time we were together. I didn't tell her that she practically grabbed me and planted a big, sloppy kiss on my lips before I knew what was happening or could even say no. I bet Elizabeth would have a different tune to sing if she knew what the real story behind my refusing Lauren's calls has been.

I do value our friendship, despite what it may seem like. I really do want us to remain friends, even in spite of what happened. What she did.

So, I am going to act and pretend like it never happened. I am going to pretend that the kiss that has been more or less rocking my entire world well off of its hinges never even happened. It's all for the best, I think. See, this way neither of us will really get hurt because she won't have to face flat out rejection and I won't have to… well, I won't have to deal with this. I won't have to deal with what this means to her and what this could mean to me. So, it's going to mean nothing to me. **NOTHING**.

Because it never happened.

* * *

_March 3_

Today was my first appointment with the new therapist that Daddy and Elizabeth had insisted that I see. I finally gave in, long ago, because… well, I just didn't feel up to fighting them anymore and isn't that a clear sign of depression if I don't even have enough energy to say no to therapy? I don't know anymore. I decided long ago to stop trying to psychoanalyze myself because I screw it up horribly and only depression myself worse.

So, I was thinking a good way to describe our meeting would be to write it out as a script. After all, we did little but talk. I mean, there was some swallowing and shifting in our chairs (mostly on my part, of course), but no big, physical outbursts. Nothing really to merit a narrative.

Away we go:

**SAMANTHA:** Welcome, Karen, it's good to finally meet you. Your last doctor and I had a lot to talk about when I called to have your files transferred over to my office.**  
KAREN:** (groan) What, like, how you're not going to listen to a word that I say and try to make all my important decisions for me? All the while, not even making the slightest effort to actually _help_ me with the real problems that are going on in my life? This is sure going to be _great_.**  
SAMANTHA:** Nothing of the sort, Karen. We talked about what an intelligent, insightful young woman you're growing into. I told Dr. Freedman that I was excited to be working with someone who sounded as promising as you did on the phone and in your files.**  
KAREN:** Promising?**  
SAMANTHA:** Yes, Karen. Promising. (extends hand) Let's introduce ourselves a little more formally. My name, as I'm sure you know, is Dr. Samantha Taggart. You're free to call me Dr. Taggart, if you wish, or you can call me Samantha or Sam. Most of my patients call me Sam or Samantha.**  
KAREN:** (I had to admit that was kind of cool) My name's Karen. I don't really have any nicknames, so I'm kind of boring.**  
SAMANTHA:** Not at all, Karen.**  
KAREN:** So, when do I get my head shrunk?**  
SAMANTHA:** You'd like to start?**  
KAREN:** Well, my parents are paying you by the hour and time is awastin'.  
**SAMANTHA:** All right. What do you want to talk about today?**  
KAREN:** Wait a minute. I get to pick? Since when do I get to pick what we talk about?**  
SAMANTHA:** Well, since this is your therapy and, as you so eloquently said, your time and your dime.**  
KAREN:** I guess we could talk about this friend of mine. Lauren. I mean, she's kind of a new friend of mine. She just moved to Stoneybrook.**  
SAMANTHA:** And you like Lauren?**  
KAREN:** _No!_ I mean… not like that, you know. I don't _like_ like her. She's only a friend.**  
SAMANTHA:** I wasn't implying anything more. Why do you think that I was?**  
KAREN:** (blush) Well, she kind of happened to kiss me. I didn't kiss back or anything. She just puckered up and laid one on me and it happened so fast that I barely even knew what was happening.**  
SAMANTHA:** And this upsets you.**  
KAREN:** Well, of course it does! She's supposed to be my friend, not my girlfriend! I don't know what to do about her anymore.  
**SAMANTHA:** Do you still like her? As friends, I mean. Of course.**  
KAREN:** Well, yeah, that's the thing. I want to still be friends with her, but she obviously wants something more than what I want. What am I supposed to do?**  
SAMANTHA:** I can't tell you what to do, Karen, you know that.**  
KAREN:** Just a hint, please? I promise I won't tell anyone you told me anything.**  
SAMANTHA:** (laugh) Nope.

The rest is kind of bland and boring, but it was interesting to talk with her about Lauren. She gave me some new insight. Maybe I don't have to ignore her and pretend that she doesn't exist after all.

Maybe.

* * *

_March 4_

See her, how she flies  
Gold sails across the sky  
Close enough to touch  
But careful if you try

Though she looks as warm as gold  
The moon's a harsh mistress  
The moon can be so cold  
Once the sun did shine

And Lord it felt so fine  
The moon, a phantom rose  
Through the mountains and the pine  
And then the darkness fell

And the moon's a harsh mistress  
It's hard to love her well  
I fell out of her eyes  
I fell out of her heart

I fell down on my face, yes I did  
And I, I tripped and I missed my star  
God and I fell and I fell alone  
I fell alone

And the moon's a harsh mistress  
And the sky is made of stone  
And the moon's a harsh mistress, yes she is  
She's hard to call your own

"The Moon's a Harsh Mistress" by Renee Fleming

* * *

_March 5_

Here's a narrative:

"Hi," Lauren said timidly as I sat down beside her in our World History class. I gave her a weak smile before turning my attention to the front of the room. Class hadn't started yet, but I was determined not to make awkward small talk.

"All right, everyone, settle down," Mr. Jansson called out to our class a couple minutes later. Our class quieted. "Today we're going to finish up our projects. If you get done early, you can work on tonight's reading, which is on the board. Any questions?"

"Yeah, do we _have_ to work on the reading if we finish early?" one of the boys in the class yelled. I rolled my eyes and I'm sure a few other people did as well.

Mr. Jansson simply nodded.

"All right," Lauren said once the class started bustling around, getting their World War I projects sorted out to be finished. She glanced at me. "We really only need to finish up the speech, right?"

I shook my head. I had finished that early with Kristy. "Actually, I worked on that at home. We only have to figure out who's saying what."

"Oh," she said, looking a little bit hurt. I felt bad. I had only asked Kristy to help me finish the project after the kiss. "Well, all right then."

"Yeah."

There was a long, awkward and uncomfortable silence. I was starting to feel really bad now, but what could I do? I couldn't take it back and, besides, hadn't she started all of this by kissing me in the first place? Wasn't this her fault to begin with?

I cleared my throat and shifted my weight in my chair. "Do you want to start the speech or do you want me to?"

"Oh, well, I could start," she said quickly. "I like doing the beginning of speeches. It's kind of fun."

No. It's _not_. "All right. Then, I do the second and fourth points and you can do points one and three." I counted up the amount of talking in my head. "That leaves the conclusion with me. Is that all right?"

"Yeah, sure, if you want to do it," she said. She was looking at me with an expression that I couldn't figure out. I didn't know if I wanted to figure it out.

I nodded. "That's fine."

"So, great. We're done, then," she said with a weak chuckle. I echoed it, afraid not to. God, I felt so uneasy. Why did she have to go and ruin the one friendship that I had?

"I'm going to work on the reading," I told her crisply and pulled out our massively thick textbook. She watched me for a few moments before doing the same.

_later_

"All right, everybody, line up. We're going to run through everyone's song and then going straight into the dance audition. If you aren't a dancer, don't worry, it won't kill your chances of getting a major role," Mr. Scarpella told us. I was clenching and unclenching my fists. Lauren stood beside me, chewing on her inner cheek. "Is everyone ready? Good. Let's start with you, Miss Brewer."

_Me?_ _I_ had to go _first?_

My mind went spinning out of control for a moment and I groped for the wall for support. Instead, Lauren's hand caught mine and gave me a tight squeeze. I swallowed roughly, though because of Lauren or because of having to go first, I couldn't tell. I glanced at my friend and she smiled warmly, pressing my songbook into Mr. Scarpella's hands for me. He smiled patiently.

"Come on, Miss Brewer. Everything will be fine. I promise that nobody will eat you once you get onstage." There was some nervous laughter from the other kids. "All right?"

I nodded. I could do this. I could.

"Yes," I replied.

I walked up the side stairs to the stage. Each step felt like a climb up a mountain. I swallowed three times in a row. I walked across the stage until I reached the middle, stopped, and turned to face the audience. The kids had formed a ragged line. Lauren had ended up several people behind me.

Mr. Scarpella looked up at me. "Ready?"

I could only nod and the piano began to play.

I must've blacked out all of the next part because the next thing I remember was sitting loosely in one of the auditorium's seats, several of the kids surrounding me, as well as a nervous Mr. Scarpella.

"Karen?"

"Oh, God," I moaned. "What happened?"

"You sang," Lauren said gently. "Then you just stood there and we led you off the stage. I think maybe you blacked out or something."

"Are you feeling all right?" Mr. Scarpella asked. "I'm going to call your parents."

"_No!_" I cried, reaching out to grab his arm. "I mean, no. It's all right, this happens sometimes when I get really nervous. I promise that I'm fine."

He shrugged. "Well, if you get any worse, you're going home."

"Yes, sir," I replied seriously, though I couldn't wait for him to move on.

When everyone did move on, except for Lauren, who sat down beside me and gave me concerned glances every couple of minutes, I slumped down in my chair and watched as the other kids auditioned. It was nice to have finished before everyone else. It was nice to know that I was done and didn't have to get back up there again. Until rehearsals started and maybe I wouldn't even make the show. Who knew?

Finally, Mr. Scarpella gestured for Lauren to go up onstage. She gave me a frightened glance as though she were terrified of performing and walked slowly to the piano to hand him a battered old songbook. He flipped it open, talked to her for a few moments before nodding and motioning for her to go onstage. Lauren walked like she was walking to the scaffold.

She faced the audience with an ashen face and cleared her throat. She then nodded to our director who began to play on the piano. The familiar sounds of a traditional tune came from the piano instead of the unfamiliar show tunes I had been listening to for the past two hours.

"_Are you going to Scarborough Faire?_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme._

_Remember me to one who lived there._

_She once was a true love of mine._"

I couldn't help myself. I leaned forward and closed my eyes. Her voice was always so beautiful, the few times that I had heard it, that I couldn't resist wanting to hear it again and again. I let myself be drawn in to her siren's song.

"_Have her make me a cambric shirt  
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.  
Without no seams, nor fine needle work.  
Then she'll be a true love of mine._"

She finished her song, to much applause and hooting for the appreciative students, and sat down next to me, her face as red as an apple. I studied her face closely as she looked back at me, but didn't say anything. The blush on her cheeks was really quite pretty, I couldn't help but notice. Oh, God, help me.

Before I could get to noticing anything else, Mr. Scarpella began talking and I quickly turned to face him, glad for an excuse to look away from her flushed cheeks and bright, happy eyes.

* * *

_March 7_

_"I told you to just hold on a __minute__, Karen," Mom said, annoyed. She was still in the pool with Andrew, who was paddling around with his swimmies on. I, on the other hand, was allowed to swim without my swimmies this summer, thanks to the swimming course that I had taken at the local YMCA. I was also standing outside the pool on our deck, dripping water everywhere._

_"It's OK," my stepfather said. He was standing next to the ladder and wrapped his big hands around the white poles. "I'll go inside with her."_

_"All right, but Karen, next time you do what you're told," Mom warned. _

_I waited until I was turned around to roll my eyes. Sometimes, she could be positively insufferable. Seth dropped my towel around my shoulders and wrapped me up tight in it. I laughed as he gave me a rough scrub. _

_"Come on, kid. Let's go get changed."_

_I was going to Lily Greene's big birthday party this afternoon and I wanted to be ready and changed well before Mom drove me over there. I wanted to make sure that everything was just perfect. After all, there were going to be __boys__ at Lily's party and I didn't want to show up with wet hair and a t-shirt sticking to my body._

_I walked into my bedroom and began riffling through my clothes. I had a lot, to be perfectly honest. I was nine and really starting to like clothes. I loved to dress up in pretty dresses and I liked to keep everything neat and stylish. Mom said that she got that from her and not my Dad, who would be happy to wear the same thing everyday, she said._

_I pulled off my swimsuit and turned around. I let out a gasp to see Seth standing in the doorway, his hand moving in front of the crotch of his swim trunks. My eyes widened._

_"What are you doing?" I asked._

_"Come here," he said to me simply. I did as I was told, forgetting about the fact that I wasn't wearing any clothes. Seth reached down and took my hand. I tried to pull away, but he placed it over the hard, warm thing that was in his own hand. I looked up at him helplessly. "Stroke it, Karen. It feels good."_

_"I don't want to," I told him, my voice shaking. I didn't like this. I didn't like this __at all__._

_"Baby, come on. It won't hurt you. I promise that I can do something to make you feel good, too," he said, his voice suddenly low and different. I shook my head. He frowned then wrapped his fingers around mine, around the warm thing. I gasped again and tried to pull away from him, but he only moaned in pleasure at my movement. I whimpered. Tears were threatening to well up in my eyes._

_"No," I pleaded. "Seth, I want to stop."_

_"Just a minute, Kare. Just a… God…"_

_He grunted and something shot into my hand. I let out a squeak of horror and Seth bent down to kiss my forehead._

_"You are an angel, baby," he whispered. "Come on. Get some clothes on."_

_He spun me around and patted my bare butt to get me moving. I held out my dirty hand from my body, afraid to touch anything with it. Soon enough, Seth stuffed tissues into my other hand and I furiously scrubbed the nasty smelling stuff away. As I dumped the tissues into my garbage, Seth laughed._

_"You are just such a tease, aren't you?" he asked. I looked over at him. _

_I had no clue what he meant._

* * *

_March 8_

My book hasn't been coming along quite as well as I had hoped. I did some research on the internet and it turns out there are about a million books about Henry VIII and girls at his court. I thought for sure that I came up with a totally unique idea. I thought that, at least, nobody would've thought to come up with a slightly neurotic girl who is convinced the king is after her when he never actually notices her. Sounds good, right?

Maybe that's the problem. Maybe my story is too blasé. Maybe it lacks a certain spark, a punch, a certain _pizzazz_. Oh, what do I know, right? I'm only a high school student, not a real writer. Not professionally, at least. Nobody would take this book seriously if I did finish and try to publish it. Or, maybe they would just because of how young I am and because it's kind of like "look at what my freak-kid can do!"

I'm in a horribly sour mood, dear diary. Please forgive me.

I suppose I have Lauren, somewhat indirectly, to blame for this. Remember how I was going to pretend to forget all about that kiss that she planted on me? Well, I can't. It's burned into my mind and half the time I close my eyes, I see her face pressed against my own. I'm certain that she thinks about it all the time, too, and it's been driving me up the wall with worry.

I don't know how to feel about this kiss. I want to feel disgusted and angry with her, which I do, on some level, but most of me isn't. Most of me is intrigued and curious. I hate that about myself. Something so taboo and dangerous and I can't stay away. What the hell is wrong with me? Is there something in my blood that just breeds opportunities for pain and humiliation? First Seth, now this? Don't I have some say in what happens to me sexually or is everyone going to force themselves on me for the rest of my life?

OK, Karen. Just cool down a minute here. Breathe.

I promise I'm not some kind of homophobe. At least, I don't think I am. Am I? I mean, I'm all for gay marriage and what have you, but am I gay? Would I be attracted to another girl? I mean, it's just been so long since I have even had a silly little girl crush on anyone… Seth kind of stomped that out of me, I guess.

What am I going to do?

* * *

_March 10_

Violet:  
Like a fish plucked from the ocean  
Tossed into a foreign stream  
Always knew that I was different  
Often fled into a dream  
I ignored the raging current  
Right against the tide I swam  
But I floated with the question  
Who will love me as I am?

Daisy:  
Like an odd exotic creature  
On display inside a zoo  
Hearing children asking questions  
Makes me ask some questions too  
Could we bend the laws of nature?  
Could a lion love a lamb?  
Who could see beyond this surface?  
Who will love me as I am?

Daisy & Violet:  
Who will ever call to say I love you?  
Send me flowers or a telegram?  
Who could proudly stand beside me?  
Who will love me as I am?

Daisy:  
Like a clown whose tears cause laughter  
Trapped inside the center ring

Violet:  
Even seeing smiling faces  
I am lonely pondering

Daisy & Violet:  
Who would want to join this madness?  
Who would change my monogram?  
Who will be part of my circus?  
Who will love me as I am?  
Who will ever call to say I love you?  
Send me flowers or a telegram?  
Who could proudly stand beside me?  
Who will love me as I am?

Company:  
Who could proudly stand beside me?  
Who will love me as I am?

"Who Will Love Me As I Am?" The Original Broadway Soundtrack to the musical _Side Show_

* * *

_March 11_

Elizabeth is worried about me, I can tell by the way she knits her eyebrows together when she glances at me. Ever since I told them about Seth raping me, years ago, she's been on a quiet sort of look-out for danger. Not that it's unwarranted. I've had my share of flashbacks, blackouts, and just general falling-aparts. So, now that I'm constantly thinking about Lauren and worrying over that ill-fated kiss, I guess I must've tripped something in the "mom-radar" that she has. I wish I could tell her about this, but then she would stare at Lauren when I invited her over and I am trying to stay normal with Lauren. I really am. God, I wish my stepmother wasn't so damn perceptive.

I know David Michael thinks that something is up, too. He's also been kind of like my personal "something's bothering Karen" radar. Except he's more up front about things than Elizabeth is. Where Elizabeth just sits and gives me worried looks, David Michael marches right up to me and demands to know what's wrong with me.

He asks me why I haven't been sleeping and when I demand to know how he even knows that my sleep hasn't been so great, he tells me because of the purplish bruises under my eyes that people sometimes call shadows. He says that they get so dark that it's a wonder that I can get away with hiding it from anyone, if I even am. Of course, I tell him that he's crazy and he says that if it's a person who's been worrying me and keeping me up at night, that he'll talk to whoever that person is. That he'll be more than happy to tell off anyone who is bothering his precious stepsister.

Too precious, I think, sometimes.

I guess it's just hard having a stepsister who's only a few months younger than you are. I mean, he's protective of me because I've been his sister basically since he could remember and because of what happened to me, yet I'm very much not his sister and he knows it. God, it's tense sometimes, knowing that this good-looking boy living just a couple doors away from you is your brother and yet not your brother. Ugh, that just opens up a whole other can of worms that I don't think I want to get into right now. Sorry, diary, but no stepsister/stepbrother awkward sexual tension stories today.

Though I did have an awkward moment with Benny today. We had finished dinner and were cleaning up the kitchen together (Thursdays are Benny and my nights to clean up) when he dropped a total bomb on me.

Turns out that he has a crush on Lauren!

I almost started giggling when he said that because, wow. Lauren definitely did not have a crush on him, out of all of the members of our family. Still, I managed to listen calmly and maturely as he gushed about how pretty she was and how nice she was and wouldn't she just make the best girlfriend? I nodded along at all the right places and said yes and no where I thought it sounded best, but I couldn't help but think that my poor brother was going to get his heart broken by this girl who was already causing enough romantic chaos for this family.

* * *

_March 12_

_"Seth, be careful!"_

_"I'm always careful with the kids," my stepfather called back cheerfully, swinging me up onto his shoulders. _

_We were in the small house with the low roof and my head almost brushed the ceiling as he did so. I gave a breathless shriek of happiness and clung to his hands for dear life. Andrew was dancing around Seth in a tight circle, obviously wanting to be swooped up onto his broad shoulders as well. My mother shook her head with a smile._

_"All right, I know you are." She leaned close to him and they kissed. I wrinkled my nose in disgust and made a retching noise. Both adults began to laugh and Seth released one of my hands to tickle at my ribs._

_"Silence up there," he commanded. "Or I'll tickle you mercilessly."_

_"What does that mean?" Andrew asked. Mom laughed and ruffled his blonde hair._

_"It means until she's silly with giggles."_

_"Ah," he said, clearly understanding._

_I pushed Seth's hand away and laughed. "No, don't tickle me! I'll fall!"_

_"Well, all right, but no more throw up noises."_

_I promised and Seth waved at my brother and mother, who were both now absorbed with getting his pajama top buttoned up. Seth headed towards my room, ducking down as he approached the lower doorway._

_"Uh-oh, low bridge," he called up to me. As usual, I made the boat noise that was required for low bridges as we passed under. Seth walked over to my bed and placed both hands on my waist before lifting me over his head then easing back down to the bed. I bounced on my knees, facing him, instead of sitting down quietly._

_"Do I have to go to bed?"_

_"Yes, Karen."_

_"How come?"_

_"Because the electricity is going to go out soon and there won't be any lights on. What else are you going to do?"_

_"We have flashlights, Seth!"_

_"Well, the power company turns those off, too," he said. He walked over to my dresser and pulled out a pair of pajamas. "Put these on, kiddo and I'll come back in to read to you."_

_It didn't take me long to undress and redress in the pink striped pajamas. I leaped off the bed and flung open the door. _

_"All right, I'm ready!"_

_"You're hyper tonight," Seth accused with a smile. I shook my head._

_"No, I just have a lot of energy. Want to see me do a cartwheel? Jackie, in my class, showed me how."_

_He shook his head, but the indulgent smile remained. "Maybe tomorrow. How about that book now?"_

_I slapped my forehead comically. "I almost forgot!"_

_We settled in to read __Charlotte's Web__ and I cuddled up against my stepfather, relishing the warmth radiating from him. I looked up at him with a smile and sighed. I loved Seth with all of my heart._

* * *

_March 13_

God, it's getting really complicated. I don't know what the hell I'm doing anymore. I don't know if I should just let myself be led on by Lauren, who seems to know better what she's doing here than I do or say something and put all of this to a screeching halt. I don't know. If you had asked me yesterday, I would've said stop. Today, I just don't know. Here's what happened:

A knock at the front door. I hurried down the front stairs to come to a halt in front of the door. I paused for a moment, collected myself, and opened the door. Lauren smiled hesitantly at me.

"Hi, Karen."

"Hey, Lauren," I replied. I opened the door further and gestured for her to come in. "I was just setting up a snack in case you're hungry."

She smiled. She looked as though she thought that maybe our tense week or two was finally coming to an end.

"Yeah, that would be good."

We walked upstairs to my bedroom and sat down on my bed. I had hauled a tray up there with a bottle of Coke, two glasses, a bag of Doritos, and a bowls of grapes for us to munch on while we studied our world history together. There was a test coming up soon. Lauren sat on the end of the bed, so I took the space up near the pillows, careful to keep a little space between the two of us. She didn't bat an eye.

"So, how about that history?" she asked once we had finished eating like a couple of starving hyenas.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, how about it? I wish we weren't having a test."

"You said that the last time, too."

"Well, I wished that we weren't having a test then, too."

Lauren laughed. "Is there a pattern that I'm sensing here?"

"Most definitely." I glanced down at the textbook sitting in my lap. I groaned. "Seriously, though. My mind just really is not into this."

"I know what you mean," she said seriously and I looked up with lightning speed. _Oh, please, don't bring it up_, I begged silently. "Karen, listen, we need to talk."

"I wish we wouldn't," I said. I stared hard at her and she glanced away from me. Her green eyes flitted over to my nightstand for a few moments before returning to my face.

"Well, I kind of think we need to," she said with quiet determination. "Even if you don't want to."

"No, it's just going to upset both of us," I told her. "I don't want to talk about it."

"God, Karen, I think I'm in love with you," she blurted out and I fell silent. She stared at me for a long moment before going on. "I thought that maybe you felt the same way."

"I didn't… I mean, I don't…. I don't know."

She edged close so that the space between was closed. Her hand reached out and took mine. I let her, but a part of me felt like whimpering in frightened protest. "You don't know?"

"You've got me all confused," I whispered. "I don't like it."

"No?"

"No, Lauren. I don't." Her finger was tracing delicate patterns over my palm. I found myself catching my breath as she did. I glanced up at her, my eyes wide. "My heart's pounding."

"Mine, too," she breathed. She leaned in closer and rested her lips against mine. She didn't press, just rested them there. I shivered as she breathed onto my face. "Do you want me to kiss you?"

"Yes."

Her mouth pressed onto mine and I shut my eyes this time. I felt her tongue press up against my lips, almost urgently, and though I felt nauseated to do so, I let her have entrance to my mouth. Her tongue gently probed for a moment before slipping back out. She pulled away and I opened my eyes again.

"Remember that you said yes this time," she told me and I nodded.


End file.
